I Like Birds: John’s big plan and how it was nearly spoiled

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The ghosts didn’t come to take us in the night, nor did the hotel burn down or any number of eventualities described to us the previous evening. I don’t think anything strange happened anyway, but if it had, I probably would have sleep through it. The Ben Craig Hotel served us well, comfortable beds, hot water and breakfast. Proper breakfast as well, not self served toast that had a tendency to burn if you took your eye off it for a second. We made the most of it, checked out and headed into the city for our only full day in Edinburgh, after the delayed train excitement of Friday.

The only definite place to visit on our list was the Camera Obscura, mainly because, as the music was guiding us on this trip, and Camera Obscura are also a hugely underrated Scottish indie-pop band, we felt like not going would be completely against the ethos of the concept, or possibly that the whole concept and the discovery of that band was somehow mystically guiding us towards that tower outside of Edinburgh’s castle. Then again, it could all have just been coincidence, nothing more than seeing the name on a leaflet and saying ‘let’s go there, it’s got the same name as a band’.

Before the Camera Obscura though, we thought we would drop all of our luggage off in a bus station locker and see what was in the new town area while we were around there. Compared to the old town, new town is so spacious, which was kind of the idea, after old town became a bit too cramped and tall, the rich people moved out into a pre-planned, suburban bliss. Not wanting to completely throw out the ridiculously tall though, they built the Melville Monument, on St Andrews Square, an epic column with a little statue on the top, much like Nelson’s column in London. Even taller is the Scott Monument, which I had mistaken for the cathedral when we first arrived, as it is very similar in design to the huge gothic cathedrals of Europe, but turned out to be a very tall monument to Sir Walter Scott, who is apparently an even more famous Scotsman than Billy Connelly.

From here, we took a quick step through the park then up a steep alleyway that led us back to the Royal Mile, and, as luck would have it, the top of the alleyway was at the entrance to the Camera Obscura. Billed as the Camera Obscura and World of Illusions, the camera itself it right at the very top of the tower, and in between is pretty much a museum of things that play tricks on your mind. To see the camera itself, we were allocated a set time where a guide would show us how it all worked. The rest of the place was open for us to freely walk around at our own leisure, so we spent 20 minutes or so wandering around spinning corridors and mirror mazes before heading up to the top of the tower. Camera Obscura literally means ‘dark chamber’, and is pretty much the first camera invented. It works by way of projecting light through a pinhole lens onto a big screen, and this particular one had been put here to give wonderful panoramic views of the city. The weather had improved vastly since that damp arrival on Friday, and we were lucky enough to see not just the city, but well into the Scottish hills beyond in one direction, and across the Firth of Forth in the other.

After our little guide, we stayed at the top of the tower for a while, making good use of the available telescopes and binoculars to spy on pigeons sitting on statues and try to work out why the police were opening up manhole covers on the streets below. After a few minutes, I realised that John and Faith had disappeared, and went looking for them. I duly found them hiding away in a little nook overlooking the cathedral, and, as seemed appropriate at the time, I tapped John on the head with my empty bottle of Irn Bru. The comedy ‘dunk’ that the bottle made was enough to make Faith and I chuckle away to ourselves, but John just looked at me sternly. In fact, stern isn’t quite the word. I’ve known John for the best part of three decades and this look said, ‘can you bugger off please?’, and though he is far too polite to actually say this, I knew that now was a good time to sheepishly totter away and find another pigeon on a statue.

A few minutes later, and all appeared forgotten; John and Faith emerged, and we headed downstairs to find some more tricks that would play with our mind. Before we got to the next level though, John stopped us. ‘Faith and I have got something to tell you. We’re going to get married’. This was really quite wonderful news deserving of a celebration, and so we offered congratulations all round with the promise of a drink before the end of the day. After the pleasantries were exchanged and we started to head further into the museum, a disturbing thought occurred to me. ‘You know when I hit you with the Irn Bru? Were you in the middle of asking?’ It’s one for the wedding speech I guess.

We spent the rest of the day walking around the city, in and out of pubs and coffee shops, taking a renewed look at Greyfriars in the daylight and edging our way around the cathedral, but all talk was now on weddings, romance and finance, that obstacle constantly in the way of both. I knew that John had already been planning the engagement for some point soon, but the timing of it completely caught me off guard. In fact I think it caught everyone off guard, even John, who just took in the moment on the tower, overlooking the cathedral and castle, and thought ‘this is the right time’. Clearly Faith agreed, and so I ask you all to raise your glasses, or cups of tea, or whatever similar object might be around you while reading this, and propose a toast. To the happy couple!

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